


If Only

by Caticorn2003



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Dream Sequences, Gay Laurens, I wrote this in an hour, M/M, Unrequited Love, laurens doesn't die, so it's probably trash, straight hamilton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 00:44:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11932794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caticorn2003/pseuds/Caticorn2003
Summary: John Laurens dreams what might have happened between himself and Alexander Hamilton, if only...





	If Only

**Author's Note:**

> ok so this is my first hamilton fanfic ever and just something i wrote in like an hour so plz don't judge me too much
> 
> edit: OMG SIXTEEN KUDOS!!! Thank you guys so much (I honestly was expecting like 1 or 2 at the most)

_My dearest Alexander,_

_I am writing this letter to tell you what I should have told you many years ago. I am sorry if this startles you in any way, but I cannot keep the truth to myself any longer..._

John stopped, crumpled the paper and tried again, dipping his quill pen into the inkwell sitting on his desk and placing it to a fresh sheet of paper.

_Alexander,_

_I need to tell you something important, something that I should have told you on the first day we met..._

No, that was no good either. Into the wastebasket the paper went.

_Dear Alexander, I'm writing this letter because..._

_Alexander, I need to confess something, something important..._

_My darling Alexander, I hope you don't find this too forward, but..._

Fourteen tries and three hours later, all John had to show for his work was an empty inkwell, a full wastebasket and an aching hand, and he still hadn't come any closer to doing what he had finally made up his mind to do—tell Alexander how he truly felt about him. That from the time they locked eyes in that run-down bar in New York City, John knew that he would never love anyone, not male, not female, the way he loved Alexander.

_Alexander, I love you..._

With a sigh, John laid down his quill on his desk, swept the last few balls of paper off of it, and let his head fall to the wooden surface. The clock chimed one, and his head popped up again, but despite the late hour, he was unusually wide awake, his mind still buzzing. Maybe a walk would help to clear his head.

The night air was cool and crisp, and a half-moon peeked out behind scattered clouds. John shoved his hands into his pockets and strode off, going in no particular direction, just wanting to get away from the house for a little while.

"Laurens?" a voice hissed. "Is that you?" Surprised, he turned to see Lafayette peering out from behind a building, with Hercules Mulligan just behind him. "What are you doing out at this hour?"

"Taking a walk," he whispered back.

"Mind if we join you?" Mulligan asked.

He shrugged, and the two men fell into step with him.

They were strolling down a street together when suddenly, a door opened right beside them, and Aaron Burr leaned out, beckoning to the three of them. "Hey, come in, there's something I have to show you!" The three friends looked at each other, puzzled, but followed Burr inside nonetheless.

They found themselves inside a small, dimly lit, run-down bar. Burr led them to a table at the back, where George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and James Madison sat, drinking tea from giant cups with British flags on them. Jefferson and Madison were wearing red coats and singing "God Save the King" while gesturing towards Washington, and John had no idea why until he saw King George the Third emerge from nowhere and place a crown on Washington's head. "Long live King George the Fourth!" he proclaimed. Then he fell down dead, and three attendants hurried to carry him out.

"No!" John cried. "America is a free country, not a monarchy!" He ran forward and tried to yank the crown off of George Washington's head, but it was glued in place and he couldn't get it off. The other two men sitting at the table looked at him with evil smiles, then both of them threw their cups of tea at him, and he was soaked from head to toe in scalding liquid, and now everyone in the room, including Lafayette and Mulligan, was leering at him and cackling evilly, and there was nothing he could do about it, and...

"No!" A voice, achingly familiar, rang out from across the room. "You'll leave my true love alone!" And none other than Alexander Hamilton himself, wearing armor and riding a chestnut mare, galloped across the bar, overturning tables and using the bartender's back as a springboard to launch himself and the mare at Madison and Jefferson, cutting both their heads off with a single slice of his sword. He turned on Washington and made to slice his head off as well, but someone cried out "No!" and Alexander settled for cutting his crown off instead. Then he ran over to John and held out a hand to help him up, those beautiful dark eyes boring into his own. "Are you okay?"

"I-I think so," John managed, accepting Alexander's offered hand and getting to his feet. "Thank you, thank you so much for saving me—"

"Think nothing of it. Anything for my true love." Alexander smiled at the bewildered John, who felt his legs turn to jelly. He would have fallen to the floor once again if Alexander hadn't placed an arm around his waist, supporting him. "Here, I've got you."

John smiled at Alexander, then looked around and realized that everyone had gone, except for the British tea set, which was mysteriously still there. "Where did everyone go?"

"Oh, they had somewhere else to go." Alexander waved a hand dismissively. "Now it's just you and me, John. Here." He picked up a sugar spoon from the set and poured some sugar on John's legs. "Now you can stand again."

"Thank you," John whispered. "You know, Alexander, there's something"—his voice caught in his throat—"something I need to tell you—"

Alexander shushed him gently. "Nothing can be more important than what _I'm_ about to tell _you_." His face was inches from John's, so close John could see him breathing, hear him swallow, then he leaned even closer, his lips nearly brushing John's. John tilted his face up slightly and edged forward a tiny bit, and then Alexander's lips were on his and then—

John jerked upright in bed, sunlight streaming in through his window, and sighed, leaning back against the wall. If only it had been real, but it was just a dream after all.

If only he could find the right words to put in a letter to Alexander. If only he had a talent for writing. If only he had talent. If only...if only his dream had been reality, if only he knew that Alexander felt the same way as he did.

If only he had courage.


End file.
